The Richest Man
by Samantha Violet
Summary: Draco Malfoy has it all, except for the one thing he really needs: a wife. When he comes across an old schoolmate in Diagon Alley, he tries to make her his own, but she has other ideas. Post-DH, oneshot.


A/N: This was written for the Quote challenge by ToManyNotes.

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter.

The Richest Man

_"The richest man is not he who has the most, but he who needs the least."_

Draco wandered the cold stone hallways of Malfoy Manor, his footsteps echoing, nobody but the house elves there to hear them. Aunt Bella was dead, and Mother and Father were both serving time in Azkaban for the crime of sheltering Lord Voldemort during his campaign of terror. Minister Shacklebolt had long since banned the use of Dementors as prison guards, and Draco knew that Azkaban was not the Hell it had once been, but he still didn't like to think of his parents there. Although he would never have admitted such weakness to a living soul, he missed them, and he was growing lonely.

"Sooky," he said out loud, and with a crack, a small house elf appeared at his feet.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"Fetch me a decanter of wine, and start a fire in the living room. I want to relax this evening."

"At once, Sir," Sooky squeaked, and with another crack, she was gone.

The living room was opulent, the furniture covered in plum-coloured silk. Draco took his usual chair by the fire, the chair that had once been occupied by his father. He sipped his wine, and watched the flames flicker, trying to put the feelings of loneliness out of his mind. After all, he should have been happy. He had a luxurious country house all to himself, servants, thousands of Galleons in the family vaults – he had everything he would ever need. Except ...

Draco's eyes wandered to the tapestry on the opposite wall, depicting the Malfoy family tree. It went back at least twenty generations. The Malfoys had always prided themselves on being one of the oldest pure-blood families in Britain, but, Draco reflected, once his parents had passed on, he would be the only one left. He couldn't let his parents down. He must continue their noble bloodline. He needed an heir, and for that, he needed a wife.

Ordinarily, a pure-blood wizard of his stature would have been introduced to potential wives at lavish society balls, but Draco didn't seem to be getting many party invitations these days. He supposed that people no longer wished to be associated with his family, now that all the facts about their alliance with Voldemort had come to light. Oh well, it was their loss; but that didn't change the fact that no potential Mrs Draco Malfoy was on the horizon. It might be about time to take matters into his own hands.

...

Diagon Alley was packed, as Draco had known it would be. Enchanted Christmas lights floated above every shop window, and a large evergreen tree decorated with permanent icicles and live sugar mice stood outside Gringotts bank. The street was filled with bustle, everybody talking and laughing while they searched for the perfect gifts for their loved ones. A sudden chill came over Draco, and he tucked his hands deep into the pockets of his frock coat. He scanned the crowd, taking in every single person who crossed his path, waiting. He was determined that, this year, he would not spend Christmas alone.

Just as the cold was starting to become too much for Draco to bear, he spotted a pretty witch heading into Flourish and Blotts. She had long, shiny black hair, and was wearing winter robes in powder blue. Draco recognised her as Cho Chang, who had been a Ravenclaw in the year above him at Hogwarts. They had faced each other in several Quidditch matches. According to Pansy, Cho had once dated Potter, which didn't say much for her judgement. However, the Changs were a respectable pure-blood family, with important links to the Wizarding community in China. His mind made up, Draco followed Cho into the warmth of the shop.

Cho was examining a peacock quill when Draco approached her. He coughed slightly, and she turned around.

"Chang," he began. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Oh, um, hello Draco," Cho said, slightly taken aback.

"Peacock quill? An excellent choice. I use them myself. A gift for someone, I presume?"

"Um, yeah," Cho replied. She was biting her lower lip, and seemed to be trying to avoid meeting his eyes. " I ... guess you're out Christmas shopping as well, then?"

"Sadly, I haven't got anyone to shop for this year. Malfoy Manor is empty."

"Oh." Cho didn't seem to know what else to say. She turned around, and began inspecting more quills, when Draco tapped her on the shoulder, and she reluctantly turned around again.

"Yes?"

"I have a proposition for you, Chang," Draco said, a slight smiling forming on his lips. "You must be aware that the Malfoy name is an ancient and powerful one in the Wizarding world. And it could be yours."

Cho looked at him, not saying a word. It was impossible to discern what she was thinking.

"Come back to Malfoy Manor with me," Draco continued. "Help me to continue the Malfoy line. I have my father's money. You can have anything you want – anything. What do you think?"

Much to Draco's annoyance, Cho burst out laughing.

"Oh Merlin – I thought you were serious for a moment!"

"I'm deadly serious."

Cho looked up into his eyes for the first time, and the laughter died on her face.

"You – _are_ serious, aren't you? Oh Draco, what made you think this would be a good idea?"

Draco took a step closer to Cho, and stroked her arm. "I was captivated by your beauty."

"More like my blood status." Cho stepped away from him. "Sorry, Draco, but you'll have to try this routine on someone else. I'm married already."

"You are?" Draco had to admit to himself that this possibility hadn't occurred to him. "Who did you marry? Was it – what's his name, Corner?"

"No, it's not Michael," Cho replied. "My husband is a Muggle, actually. His name's Dave." There was a note of defiance in her voice.

Draco couldn't suppress a snigger. "Oh, I do apologise. I should have realised that any woman would be insane not to pass over a rich, pure-blooded wizard in favour of a Muggle called _Dave_."

"Don't you laugh at my husband," Cho said, sounding angry now. "He's a better person than you'll ever be, Draco Malfoy. I know all about you. I know about your family, and I'd die before marrying into it."

"Oh, I'm sure Potter told you all sorts of stories about me," Draco said, "but did he ever tell you that my mother saved his life?"

Cho's reaction was not what Draco had hoped for. She gave a smug smile.

"Actually, he has told me that story, yes," she said. "I bumped into him and Ginny a few months ago, and they invited me and Dave round for dinner. Your mother didn't exactly save Harry out of concern for him or the Wizarding world, did she? She just wanted to protect her own son. If you hadn't been at Hogwarts that night, she would have gladly let Harry die."

Now Draco was beginning to lose his patience. "Don't you speak about my mother that way!"

Cho's face softened. "Draco ... look. I'm sorry you're lonely. And I'm willing to accept you've probably changed since Hogwarts – we've all changed. But if this is your approach to finding a wife, it needs some serious revision. Maybe next time you should start with chocolates and flowers. That's fairly standard procedure." She smiled.

It had been a long time since anyone had smiled at Draco. His eyes met Cho's, and for a moment they shared a look of understanding. Then he nodded goodbye, turned around, and walked back outside into the cold. He would be returning to Malfoy Manor alone. Again.

...

"I'm home!" Cho called.

Dave came to meet her at the door, Milena in his arms. Cho kissed her husband and one-year-old daughter, and put down her shopping bags. Dave handed Milena over, and Cho cuddled her close.

"How was your shopping trip?" Dave asked.

"Oh, I'll need a cup of coffee with a shot of Firewhisky in it before I'm ready to tell that story," Cho replied, carrying Milena into the living room and sitting down with her on the sofa.

"Really? That bad?"

Cho looked at her husband fondly. "Just put the kettle on, will you?"

As she played with the baby, watching the sun set outside the living room window, Cho felt incredibly lucky. Their house may be small, and the furniture second-hand, but she knew that as long as she had Dave and Milena and a warm cup of coffee beside her, she would never need anything else in the world.

THE END


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